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8 " I take these little lambs," said he,
4 " Death may the bands of life unloose,
"But can't dissolve my love; "Millions of infant souls compose "The family above.
5 " Their feeble frames my pow'r shall raise,
"And mould with heavenly skill; "I'll give them tongues to sing my praise, "And hands to do my will."
<5 His words the happy parents hear,
And shout with joys divine; 'Dear Saviour, all we have and are,
Shall be for ever thine.
76. Saints departed. (P. M.)
1 TTTHEN we view the saints declining,
VV To the shady vale of death;
2 Pious friends the saint surrounding,
Love, and grief, and joy abounding,—
Faith, through pain and death, can open,
Love, and joy, and knowledge springing,-
277- The Pilgrim's End. (P.M.)
1 "1%/TARK the weary pilgrim walking, -j-ta Near to Jordan's fearful streams; With his heart and Jesus talking,
Canaan's glory on him beams:
Sins and mercies mark the road;
These ensure his rest with God!
2 Love and gratitude expressing,
For the special gift of grace;
Nought his lips employ but praise:
Ready to go up and die;
To his spirit he'll be nigh.
I See how calm his head reclining,
With the promis'd land in view; All his dearest friends resigning,—
Now he finds the promise true. Jesus now his mind sustaining,
With him in the hour of grief; Soon the heights of glory gaining,
Heaven's joys bring quick relief!
Jesus, may I thus be favour'd;
May I thus resign my breath; With thy faithful ones be gather'd,
When I tread the vale of death. Let me live on Christ depending,
On him cast my every care: Peaceful to my grave descending,
See his face,—his favour share!
O. Mortality and Hope. (L. M.)
REMEMBER, Lord, our mortal state,
! Lord, while we see whole nations die,
t " Where is thy promise to the just?
4 That glorious hour, that dreadful day,
2 / y. Man mortal, and God eternal. (L. M.)
1 rrVHROUGH every age, eternal God,
-*- Thou art our rest, our safe abode; High was thy throne ere heav'n was made, Or earth thy humble footstool laid.
2 Long hadst thou reign'd ere time began, Or dust was fashion'd to a man;
And long thy kingdom shall endure,
3 But man, weak man, is born to die,
Thy dreadful sentence, Lord, was just,
4 A thousand of our years amount
5 Death, like an overflowing stream,
6 Our age to seventy years is set;
How short the term! how frail the state!
And if to eighty we arrive,
We rather sigh and groan than live.
7 But O how oft thy wrath appears,
8 Teach us, O Lord, how frail is man;
Fit us to die, and dwell with thee.
80. The Death and Burial of a Saint. (C.M.)
1 TTTHY do we mourn departing friends?
»» Or shake at death's alarms? Tis but the voice that Jesus sends, To call them to his arms.
2 Are we not tending upward too,
As fast as time can move!
3 Why should we tremble to convey,
Their bodies to the tomb? There the dear flesh of Jesus lay, And left a long perfume.
4 The graves of all his saints he bless'd,
And soften'd every bed;
a Thence he arose, ascending high,